A Year in Two Different Worlds: Why Integrated Schools are Essential

by | Dec 15, 2016

(a few months old… but I just saw it, so…)   From a teacher’s POV… And Katherine Meeks marks the difference between her two experiences as defined by integration (or […]
(a few months old… but I just saw it, so…)   From a teacher’s POV… And Katherine Meeks marks the difference between her two experiences as defined by integration (or lack thereof) — not good staff/bad staff, good kids/bad kids, etc etc etc…
 

Since the 1999 court case that required Charlotte Mecklenburg Schools (CMS) to end busing because the schools had “eliminated the vestiges of past discrimination,” the district has primarily assigned students to schools closest to home. This practice results in extreme socioeconomic disparity between schools, which CMS attempts to counteract by spending more money on the low income schools.

Between 2000 and 2010, the Wake County Public School System (WCPSS) was nationally recognized for socio-economic school integration, and, before that, racial integration. Although this practice has since ended, many of the effects linger.

In the 2013-2014 NCDPI School Report Cards 40 percent of CMS schools were rated an “A” or “B” compared to 50 percent in WCPSS. 29 percent of CMS schools were rated a “D” or “F”, compared to just 11 percent in WCPSS. According to a 2015 New York Times report, Mecklenburg County currently ranks second to Baltimore for “big counties worst for income mobility for poor children.”

This is the story of my experiences teaching at two vastly different schools and the systemic problems of socioeconomic inequalities I witnessed:

  1. CMS: 90 percent free and reduced lunch; extremely low performing; rated “F”
  2. WCPSS: 20 percent free and reduced lunch; high performing; rated “A”

At the first school, we were flooded with monetary resources, technology, and additional school personnel. To serve 900 students, we had five administrators, a school resource officer, two security associates, two behavior management technicians, two in-school suspension teachers, two “Communities In Schools” staff, three instructional facilitators, a full-time beginning teacher coordinator, a CTE coordinator, two counselors, and a social worker. We had a technology device for every single student. Class sizes were lower than average.

Despite these supports, I worked 12 hours a day to complete the most basic parts of my job and working conditions were far below what I would consider professional. I witnessed an unfathomable amount of violence and on more than one occasion felt personally unsafe. There was a culture of fear for everyone involved: fear of theft, fear of violence, and fear of multiple kinds of abuse. When teachers were absent, students were most often covered by stretching current staff because substitutes did not want to work in the unpredictable and sometimes hostile environment. On these days, teachers gave up their planning period and worked unpaid overtime at home. When I didn’t have to cover other classes, I spent most or all of my planning period writing discipline referrals, calling parents (often unsuccessfully), finding an interpreter to call parents, and wrestling with the copy machine. Yet as hard as we worked, we perceived, at best, miniscule improvements to students’ lives.

Now, I spend my planning period almost exclusively planning engaging lessons. I feel appreciated and I see the difference I make. I’ve only written one discipline referral and covered one class this year. In a year at the first school I spent over 180 hours performing daily non-instructional duties necessary to maintain order and help keep students safe. This year I expect to spend just 53 hours on such duties. There were similar discrepancies between required attendance at after-school events. When I talk with another teacher that left the first school the same time I did, she describes her feelings of guilt that prevented her from leaving earlier as “masochistic.”

Many believe that we need to attract more highly qualified teachers to low-income schools — I disagree. I worked with highly-qualified, brilliant and passionate teachers and administrators who were relentless in their efforts to achieve student growth.

The real problem is keeping any teachers at all. Research shows low teacher turnover increases student performance. Turnover at the first school was around 50 percent. Less than one year later, of the administrative staff, only the principal remains. My quality of life and sense of professional achievement at the first school were so low that I doubt I would have stayed for any monetary incentive.

In Part 1 of a recent segment on the radio show This American Life entitled “The Problem We All Live With,” host Ira Glass talked with Nikole Hannah-Jones, New York Times investigative reporter, about dozens of strategies school systems like CMS are using to help failing schools. Here’s Glass:

What she noticed was that it never worked. I mean, like, never. The bad schools never caught up to the good schools. And the bad schools were mostly black and Latino. The good schools were mostly white. And sure, there might be a principal here or a charter school there who might do a good job improving students’ scores, but even there, they were just improving their student scores. The minority kids in their programs were still not performing on par with white kids. They hadn’t closed the achievement gap between black kids and white kids.

So if all these programs aren’t working, what does work? Nikole continues:

I find there’s one thing that really worked, that cut the achievement gap between black and white students by half… [school] integration… But instead, since 1988, we have started to re-segregate. And it is at that exact moment that you see the achievement gap start to widen again.

Her research aligns with my experience. But integrated schools aren’t just better for students — they’re better for teachers too. Integrated schools are significantly better at retaining teachers long-term as well as educating all students.

I couldn’t fully appreciate how lucky I was to be educated in an integrated system until I worked for a segregated one. As a student in integrated schools, I learned lessons much more important than any content found on a test. Unfortunately, in the six years since the end of socioeconomic integration, WCPSS is trending towards segregated schools. The 2014-2015 NCDPI School Report Cards look more like those of CMS.

In Part 2 of “The Problem We All Live With,” reporter Chana Joffe-Walt described the community engagement necessary to achieve school integration:

There are only a few places in the country that have seriously committed to school integration over a long period of time. Louisville, Kentucky is one; Wake County in North Carolina; those are the biggest. And in each case, something like this right here has occurred: a public reckoning seems to be a required step; some sort of long process by which the gap between two unequal systems is made very clear to the people who are not paying attention.

I share my experiences not to disparage the valiant efforts of low-income schools but rather to bring awareness to the larger systemic problem. I share because the personal time it took me to write this article did not exist a year ago. I share because my heart breaks to watch WCPSS travel down the path towards segregated schools and because I’ve seen where that path leads. It’s time for a public reckoning. We know from anecdotal evidence and quantitative data that separate is not equal and does not work. Our teachers deserve safe and professional working conditions. Our students — all of them — deserve a safe learning environment and a high quality education.

Add my voice — an informed witness from the front lines — to the growing chorus. Wake up, Wake. Pay close attention. You are headed the wrong way.

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This article was previously published by NC Policy WatchPublic Schools First NCRed4Ed, and at KatherineMeeks.org.

2 Comments

  1. cemykytyn

    I received this via email and am pasting (with permission)

    “I appreciate your blog and your efforts to promote school integration. Articles like this are really thought-provoking to me. While I agree with the author’s conclusion about the need for integrated schools, I am also reading a troubling subtext into her story. It almost sounds like she’s saying that regardless of the resources you throw at them, schools with too many poor, black, or brown kids can’t be successful. This would then imply that the students themselves may be less capable. I don’t think she is overtly or intentionally saying this, but there is definitely a subtext that the only way for poor and minority kids to succeed is to place them with rich white kids who behave better. I think this exposes a fine line we all walk in advocating for integrated schools that might imply that the value of integration is “spreading whiteness around.” I started my career teaching in a school very similar to the one she described, and and can fully understand what she is getting at. By no fault of the students, the whole school was so mismanaged and chaotic, and expectations for kids were so low across the board, that students were not achieving and teachers (me included) were burning out. At the same time, I have also worked in a schools that were 90% poor and minority and that were well-run with high expectations, and where kids were thriving. I say all this because I think there are two very important points all of us advocating for integration need to be cognizant of:

    1) High-poverty/ high-minority schools CAN be successful. It is more difficult, and we do a disservice to students by limiting their exposure to the full diversity of their community. However, this is not because of the students themselves are in any way less capable. We need to lift examples of great integrated schools without lowering our expectations for racially or economically isolated schools…which brings me to #2

    2) No matter how much we advocate and work on this, given the profound housing segregation and underlying bias (and systemic racism) of our society, we are unlikely to integrate all schools until housing segregation becomes a thing of the past. This means that while integration is the ideal, isolation will remain the norm for many students, and we need to also seek and expect positive solutions in those environments as well.

    Sorry to go on, but the article just resurfaced a lot of things I’ve been thinking about my own role as an advocate in the movement, and I thought I’d share (if for no other reason than someone might listen :).

    In partnership,
    xxxx

    • cemykytyn

      And here is my email response:

      Hey xxxxx:

      I am so grateful for this. Yes and yes and yes. This is an important correction. The idea that wealthier/whiter kids are somehow needed to “advance” kids of color in a system that often works against them is the subtext of not only this but many articles around integration…. And we need to vigilant at pointing it out. Every. Single. Time (note here my shame that I didn’t follow through on that when I posted this article last night),.

      I spoke with the most incredible principal of a majority African-American school in Chicago the other day and he said it plainly “I don’t need white kids.” His school seems stellar and, in every word he speaks, his pride in his students and faculty shine through. He welcomes white kids –all kids– but he doesn’t need them to thrive.

      That being said, as you write and as Meeks writes, this is not the case of every school that serves students of color and students growing up in poverty. I wish it were. I wish all kids could have a Dr. W.

      There are very, very real struggles of poverty and systemic racism that kids have to manage every day; concentrating those problems into schools amplifies them. And, because it all needs to be said, just because a kid is white doesn’t mean that a kid doesn’t have his/her own struggles that can manifest as ‘behavioral’ problems and disrupt classrooms. So it goes with wealthier/poorer as well. But indeed, poverty and racism’s oppression are not the struggles white and/or wealthy kids bring with them to school. So, then, when we “spread around the whiteness,” we are also spreading around privilege, too. That is, if if IF we do so thoughtfully and intentionally.

      And ahhhh the issue of housing segregation. It feels so intractable. School and housing segregation are often cyclical — how many times have realtors told prospective buyers about the “good” versus the “bad” schools and steered their clients thusly (in Philly, there is an amazing school integration group that has hosted [if I remember this accurately] “realtor tours” of “bad” schools in a explicit effort to show them just how NOT BAD the schools are)? However, with gentrification being a reality in every city and with Millennials eschewing the Olive Garden suburbs for diverse (affordable?!) communities, there is a good amount of low-hanging fruit for school integration. I am hopeful that, if we can change the school integration narrative and parents joyfully send their kids to schools in their communities then integration could become the new “buying local.” When these kids succeed and the stories of integration counteract that “risk” and “social experimentation” talk, we have a shot. And then, perhaps, self-segregated housing and gerrymandering districts to concentrate poverty could become less of a norm. It’s a long game. A long, long game.

      I know you know all this — I’m just writing and thinking… (ha, it really should be the other way around, no?)

      Advocating for school integration can be a minefield and I don’t always walk through it without blowing something up… But I am so grateful that there are others like you out here walking through it, too (and with greater care than I).